No Regrets
by Land of Parchment and Ink
Summary: The Man with the Painted Smile claimed he had no regrets. Never in my ages of existence did I hear such sincerity; see and feel the purest, most beautiful form of love a father has for his son.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own One Piece

**Author's Notes: **I got hit with major feels when I read OP 766, and I just had to write this thing. The story is in Death's point of view, thanks to reading The Book Thief by Markus Zusak. But I must say, my portrayal of Death in here's such a softie and I _-_ dare I say? _-_ liked it. So, here's another OP fic from me. I hope you'll like it, dear readers. *smiles*

_Song playing when "No Regrets" was being written: Paralyzed(Instrumental) by Angels and Airwaves_

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><p><em>"No love is greater than that of a father for His son."<em>

_- _Dan Brown, Angels and Demons

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It was a winter island.

If there was one thing I liked about the place, it's, obviously, the snow aside from what I really was meant to be doing in this cold(the feeling was divine! I dislike heat, mind you) slab of land in the sea.

I sat on top of a pile of crates and watched as an explosion tore apart an establishment from afar my perch. I grinned, amused that the blast didn't even make a sound.

The wonders of a Devil Fruit.

Chuckling, I got up and dusted off the imaginary powder of snow on my head and shoulders, an act that almost made me feel... well...

Suffice to say, the act almost made me feel human.

**(Keyword: almost)**

A few minutes passed and I remained standing where I was. I took my time waiting; it was always this way to me. And I waited patiently, knowing that I would not leave this island alone.

I never leave a place all by myself. There's a reason why I go places and leave with a companion or two. And most of the time, I depart with more than two. Tens. Hundreds. Thousands, in more than one occasion.

Yes, I never leave a place all by myself.

I started to walk down the snow-laden path, the ground thick with the powdery white fluff. I weaved through the streets as if I knew the place like the back of my hand. In all honesty I don't; the purpose of why I was here in the first place the only map I needed to find my way towards my destination. And lo, here I was, staring down at a pile of blankets huddled and shivering against a brick wall.

A small smile appeared on my face. Of course, blankets don't just shiver on their own. I leaned down and reached for the first layer of fabric just as a gust of wind blew in our direction, effectively revealing a fluffy white hat with brown giraffe patterns on top of its brim. I pulled lower as the wind picked up strength. White-mottled skin followed the funny hat's appearance, then a face. The face of a child I came to know so well.

The child's eyes were grey and dull, hollowed, if you asked me. But the past six months of his swiftly fading life gave me quite a surprise when I looked deeper in those storm cloud-like orbs. They were not the same hollowed ones I saw way back when he was crying with despair as the town he used to know was reduced to ashes and when I gathered all the ones he ever loved in my arms. They were not the same hollowed, cold ones when he arrived on a dump site demanding to be a part of a pirate group, grenades that he could easily set off on a whim strapped around him. They were not the same hollowed, cold, and hope-riddled ones when he gripped a knife so tight and lunged to stab a man he was so mad at as if his life depended on it.

They were not the same eyes I used to look at before I left him and the man he stabbed on their own for neither of them was still not ready to greet and come with me.

Hope sparked in those stunningly grey eyes. For a child who knew how much time was left for him and so sure that he would soon meet me, needless to say it never failed to surprise me when I saw hope in his eyes. And there was something else. Something that stopped a non-existent mass of cardiac muscle in my chest from beating.

I pulled my hand away and, not for the first time, felt sorry for what I was here for.

The child looked at the soundless explosion on the hill far from us and I followed his gaze. I actually heaved a sigh because I knew that somewhere else, a man slipped on a patch of ice and resulted in him being captured and also for him to realize how much of a blunder he caused.

I gazed back at the child and waited. The boy's lips were now tinged with blue, the cold making him weaker all the more. Another sigh escaped my lips, fighting the urge to pull him closer for the warmth he so needed. With my hands on my knees, I steeled and contented myself in gazing up at the dark skies above, the simple knowledge of physically making contact with this fragile being would lead to an inevitable and irreversible fact that none, even the man with the painted smile, could erase.

The reason why I was here in the first place.

Fast yet fatigued footsteps reached my ears and I took it as a cue to leave. The man with the painted smile's deed was done, and it's time for me to pick up the fellows he left behind.

**A note: the Man with the Painted Smile's elder brother was here. Another batch of fellows for me to pick up.**

+.+

Crimson stained the pristine whiteness of the snow I'm treading on, but for the first time I paid no heed in admiring the colors and how they contrasted against each other. I lifted my gaze and saw that the whole town was now trapped in a dome of sharp, hard and unyielding strings.

My throat constricted with mixed feelings.

For the first time in a very long while, I dreaded the fact that I would take part in what was to come.

I dreaded what was to come.

I dreaded.

_I dreaded._

+.+

It was not the first time I witnessed the child with the grey eyes cried. I watched him cry countless of times.

When everyone he knew, including himself, fell prey to an incurable illness.

When the town he loved so well fell.

When all he ever loved were killed mercilessly.

When he thought that he was all alone and asked whatever divine being why he was still alive and breathing.

When he faced people who did not see him as a human being, but as a "White Monster".

When the Man with the Painted Smile sincerely and truly cried and hurt for him when the former thought him to be asleep.

The child's tears were far more different this time, and for the first time I wanted to weep with him.

It was astounding how a period of short, six months made a feeling in his heart burst forth into something beautiful. How his views regarding the Man with the Painted Smile changed from hatred into something else.

How he saw the Man with the Painted Smile not as a brother, but as a father he once had.

How he truly, irrevocably loved the Man with the Painted Smile who saw him not as a monster, but a son never had.

The Man with the Painted Smile whose soul now stood by my side.

Together, we quietly watched the child as he begged for the man he came to love in such a short span of time to wake up and come back. The Man with the Painted Smile cried openly beside me. He fell on his knees and stretched his hands to wipe away the tears from the child's eyes, but his long fingers just went through white-mottled skin, flesh, and bone. A look of pained acceptance crossed his face and he drew his hands back, head bowed low as the child's wails grew louder in volume.

He stood back up and looked at me through his tears. A warm feeling blossoming from my chest gripped me at the sight of the brightest, most sincere smile that met my gaze. It was a smile so beautiful, so full of love that I only came across a very few times in all the ages I have existed in this world. A smile that simply, most definitely rivaled the sun.

"I regret nothing,"he said, smile never faltering. "All the things I did, all the sacrifices I made for him... I regret nothing! I would gladly die over and over for this child who was so sure that he would not continue to live any longer and had no hope for himself; this child who was so sure that you would come for him. I regret nothing!

"You do know how I feared that you would come for this child, don't you? How I went into great lengths with the hopes of delaying and preventing your meeting. I'm glad he still lives, even if he's so broken right now. I'm so glad you came for me instead! So glad that I died instead of him!

"The only regret I'll ever have is that I won't be able to be with him through it all; see him fulfill his dreams. I won't be there with him to help him pick up the shattered pieces after this day. But he's still alive, and that's what matters to me! He is strong, and I'm sure he'll stand back up and face the world that sees him as nothing but a monster. He's strong, and I believe in him!

"I've said this before and I'll say it again: I'm glad you came for me instead of him, thankful even. I regret nothing. I do not regret dying for him. I do not and will never regret dying for the child I came to love as my own.

"I do not and will never regret, and I would gladly die over and over for the child... no."

The Man with the Painted Smile's tears vanished but his smile, warm and so full of love, remained on his face.

"I do not and will never regret, and I would gladly die over and over for my son."

A smile graced my lips, a smile so genuine I ever graced a soul only twice or thrice in all the eons I have graced this world with my painful truth of existence. I lifted a hand up, pulled him close to me, and pressed our foreheads together gently. I looked straight in his eyes.

Here stood in front of me a man who lived and sacrificed without regret; who died for the one he so loved.

A father who died for the only son he ever loved.

My smile softened, for this man did not die in vain. I saw and felt the same kind of love from the child who thought that I would come for him; the child who held no hope for himself; the child who loved the man, his most precious person in the world, he called father and kept deep in his heart.

A father who gave his life for his son.

A son determined to live for his father who gave him love and hope when he had none left for himself.

"Corazon. Donquixote Rocinante,"I said as I pulled away from him and stretched a hand for him to take, the smile still on my face.

The Man with the Painted Smile looked at my outstretched hand, then at the now sobbing child who promised to live a life well lived behind him, and back at me. With a broad smile on his face he took my hand with his, as wholeheartedly accepting as ever.

My smile widened and mirrored his.

Together we left the island side by side, smiling at each other like old friends. As we approached the blinding white light meant to take him to a place far better than his own, I gave him one last genuine smile and said:

"You are loved, will always be, and will never be forgotten. You did more than well."

And my words remained true even after many years passed, and as Trafalgar D Water Law faced his sworn father's murderer, standing tall and firm, love for the most precious person he lost never wavering. Never fading.

And when he shouted the words, a smile full of approval appeared on my face.

"...what I have now is thanks to Cora-san! I'm grateful!"

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><p><em>Currently listening to: Paralyzed by Angels and Airwaves<em>


End file.
